


Repose

by ClothesBeam



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 02:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18202160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClothesBeam/pseuds/ClothesBeam
Summary: Derek interrupts Stiles’ panic attack and gets a chance to reflect on a few things.





	Repose

Derek didn’t know what he was doing here. Standing in the tree line near the Stilinski household, taking stock. Assessing.

Stiles would probably say lurking. Or stalking.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The kanima. Almost drowning. Stiles somehow managing to hold him afloat for over two hours.

His internal mental focus on the human inevitably meant his senses had been drawn there too. How could he not have noticed something was wrong?

Derek wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but something was definitely off. It was like a strange yet extremely mild scent in the air, but he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was even his nose that was picking up on it.

Derek approached Stiles’ window and peered into the room through the gap in the blinds. Stiles was lying on his side, facing away from the window. His pulse was still in the realm of calmness, but it was increasing. His breaths were becoming uneven.

Derek’s goals never quite aligned with Scott’s. Yet he and Stiles had saved each other more than once. In fact, they always ended up on the same side somehow. It didn’t say much for Derek’s betas or Scott that Stiles was the most reliable person he knew.

Even if Stiles' plans seemed to include Derek ‘distracting’ people with his looks more often than he’d like.

Stiles’ heartrate jumped up, and Derek’s attention snapped back to the room in front of him. Had Stiles noticed he was there?

That couldn’t be it. Stiles was still facing away from the window. His heart was pounding. He was sweating profusely and curling in on himself. Stiles’ breaths were shaky and harsh, but Derek couldn’t say the sounds he was making were pitiful.

Derek had to force himself to not start stalking around outside Stiles’ window. The human wasn’t part of his pack, but he clearly needed some kind of help. And Derek was apparently the only one who seemed to be aware of that in this moment.

He sighed to himself as he used a claw to jimmy the latch on the window open. It reminded him of his life _before_. Sneaking into Kate’s room and…

Desperate to push those thoughts away, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Once he was calm again, he tried to enter the room without making a racket. The blinds made that a bit difficult.

“What? What is it? I swear, someone had better be dying…” Stiles paused where he was now sitting up on the bed, and seemed to consider the significance of his words. “Please tell me someone isn’t dying.”

Derek glared at him, but as usual, Stiles seemed unfazed by his initial reaction. “Shut _up_. And no, not that I’ve heard at least,” he replied softly. He knew Stiles’ father was in the room just down the hall.

Stiles gave him an expectant look even as his hand came up to his chest and he began to curl into himself again. He’d been about to have a panic attack, was possibly still in the early throes, Derek realised. Even though Stiles was focused on him, he still seemed to be having trouble controlling his breathing. Now he was here, he had to do something before it could become an asthma attack.

“What do you want?” Stiles prompted when he remained silent. He looked worried now.

Derek sniffed out the medication easily enough. He reached into Stiles’ sports bag as he made his way over to the bed.

“Nothing,” he lied as he tossed the inhaler onto the bed. “I happened to be in the area and felt something weird was up with you.”

Stiles didn’t seem to be very impressed with his explanation, but he grabbed his inhaler anyway. His scent filled Derek’s nose. It was mostly sweat, and a hint of chlorine from the pool. Derek was intolerant of weakness, but Stiles always acted when it mattered. Right now it didn’t matter.

“Don’t tell me you were worried about me,” Stiles muttered as he shook the inhaler. But his symptoms seemed to be receding, so he didn’t actually use it.

“The alpha of your pack seems to be busy. So, someone has to be,” Derek replied as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He approached Stiles slowly. He didn’t want to stress him out, but felt he needed to be closer.

Stiles turned his head away sharply, then faced him again with a disbelieving expression. “Just tell me what you want already. Stop trying to suck up, it’s weird.”

Derek paused a short distance from the edge of his bed, not wanting to get right up in his face or tower over him. Of all the things that were ‘weird’ about him, that was what Stiles was going to complain about?

“All I wanted to do was make sure you’re all right.” Derek shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “How many times do I have to say it? Now that you’re mixed up in all of this, we need each other to survive.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned away from him, flopping back down on his side. “I was under the impression you were always saying that to Scott.”

“You’re a fool if you think it doesn’t apply to you too.”

Derek lifted his foot, but balked at actually getting any closer. His instincts wanted him to lay down behind Stiles and… be a comforting presence?

But it was unlikely his actions would be perceived that way now. There really wasn’t much room on the single bed, and given his own history, the last thing he wanted to do was traumatise some high schooler he knew would misinterpret his actions. And be painfully obnoxious about it, at that.

Stiles raised a hand in frustration. “What is it with you and the backhanded compliments? If this is some elaborate scheme to get me to join your pack, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“I’m not trying to make you do anything,” Derek replied shortly. Not that he would complain if the opportunity presented itself. “Just… get some rest.”

“I was, until some weirdo came into my room,” Stiles lied.

Derek let the silence continue for a beat, and determined the scent, or feeling, or whatever it had been was now gone. There wasn’t really any reason for him to stick around.

Sneaking out without making any noise was much easier than sneaking in. Derek was already back in the tree line by the time Stiles turned over to tell him to go away again. He seemed to deflate slightly when he realised Derek wasn’t there anymore, before beating his fist against his thigh and turning back over.

It would only be a matter of time before the kanima struck again. Derek had to do something about it before someone else died. With Lydia as his target, he knew Stiles would stand in his way this time.

Derek could understand it on some level. He’d once been in enough denial to have loved a killer too.

That didn’t mean he was going to let his empathy stop him.


End file.
